Speak not of illness to me

"Speak not of illness to me sweet cherry tree" said the willow ,
For your berries shine bright in the sun,
I've wept a million tears, upon times frozen pillow,
For sorrows cry within the winds of time,
So many souls come seeking
And many tears of weeping
To find wisdom from within
" countless illness thickens within the stems of my leaves ,
Letting the darkness in",
Softly the wind does blow
But memories never ease
So many seekers to silence
My heart can't will to cease.